Infatuation Predication
by xX-karebear-Xx
Summary: Smoke encased my lungs. I Shook violently in a fit of coughs attempting to break the choke hold the charcoal gas had on me. Twisting and turning I fought with the safety belt clamped tightly across my chest. surely it wasn't helping.
1. prelude

_**Infatuation Predication prelude**_

**Chapter 1**

_prelude_

"Barb, Honey... He wont even remember this, wouldn't it be more fun for him if we just stayed here made some holographs and sprayed a cake?" Lloyd questioned as he pulled the shiny metallic plastic card from his wallet.

"Come On Lloyd it will be Great!. You, me, little Phil, and Shakespeare himself in the renaissance period celebrating Philly's birthday with one of his magnificent plays " barb said clasping her hands together and staring full of awe into space with her vision of Phil's perfect first birthday glowing in her mind.

Lloyd grunted "No one understands the man honey he's a crazy old loon."

"I'm going to dismiss the fact that you just called the worlds greatest playwright crazy...TWICE!. please Lloyd be reasonable you can have his second birthday for your laser squash dreams.

"Fine" He sighed and waved the card in front of the scanner. "Ready to go?"

Barbs face lit up as she pried Phil's tiny hands from the crevices on tire of the disguised time machine.

_**16 years later....or rather 220 years previous **_

"By golly I think I've done it!"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. It was impolite for this century, but this was getting ridiculous. It was November 12th 1901, my 17th birthday and every single year starting 16 years and 3 days ago when our trip to the renaissance was stalled due to a bit of...carriage trouble?.

Milliseconds later Pim burst into the barn suitcases in palm...It has always frightened me the way she pops in out of no where. For years I searched restlessly for the answer to her speedy appearances but then it occurred to me. I was suffice with not knowing and it was the safest survival path guaranteed.

"Come on Daddy-o Blow this Joint" She hollered bounding up the steps.

I struggled to contain my chuckle I knew it was no laughing matter and that our safe stay in this century depended on us going about unnoticed and that much more talk like that and our cover would be blown, but the fair haired girl my parents swear is my sister was mildly amusing, not that I would ever show the slightest approval of that behavior for I knew that it would only feed the flame.

"What is with all the shouting?" My mother asks walking in just in time to see the time machine door crash close.

"Father claims he's finally fixed the wretched old time machine." I bite my tongue refraining from voicing my further thoughts on the matter

Lloyd crawled out from beneath the Time machine a satisfied grin smeared across his oil stained face his teeth reflecting the setting sun. He floated over spun my mother around kissed her cheek before pulling her up the 'RV' steps. I stood my ground bringing my arms up and folding them slowly across my chest. The engine made a hiccup sound before starting up. I wasn't convinced it had done this once before on my sixth, eighth and twelfth birthdays. I waited assuming to hear the engine fail as it had done so many times before.

30 seconds passed....

...A minute ..

...two minutes...

my arms fell slowly to my sides a smile forming on the tip of my lips.

...Three minutes....

My father stepped down the steps hanging his head out the window in my direction.

"You coming Phil?"

----------

Numbers danced around in my head as they weaved in and out of the Technicolor tunnel orbiting on the screen the large screen at the front of the machine. ...1910.....1915....1920...

"How much Further will the journey continue?" I ask leaning my head gingerly against the dusty rest.

1930....1935...1940...

"5 minutes and It's home sweet home." my mother sung cheerfully from her chair rubbing her hands together anxiously."

1960...1968....1980

I turn to Lloyd.

"It's speeding up" I'm not sure if I meant for it to be a question of a statement.

1990...1998...2000...

A crash came from beneath the time machine. The rv took on a ceasing pattern rocking us and the other contents back and forth.

2002..2004...2006...2007

"DAD?" Pim screeched her fingers turning white from her grip on the arm rest.

...2008.

The Engine sputtered and hissed as the screen flashed and faded to black. We had come to a complete stop. Nobody moved...No said anything...

A cloud of smoke tickled my nose and throat as it danced joyfully around me to the prelude of Happy Birthday ringing in my ears.

**Authors Note: well here I am again with yet another story entitled _infatuation predication _and chapter 1 is _prelude._ So for the curious It seems only fair that I take a little time to explain the titles. If you have the definitions it's pretty simple.**

**Infatuation****- ****A foolish, unreasoning, or extravagant passion or attraction **

**Predication****- ****To proclaim assert, or declare a statement or action . **

**Prelude****- a piece that precedes a more important movement **

**So basically....**

**Story title- Foolish love deceleration.**

**Chapter title- The beginning**


	2. chapter 1 and a fourth

Infatuation Predication

Chapter 1¼?

Smoke encased my lungs. I Shook violently in a fit of coughs attempting to break the choke hold the charcoal gas had on me. Twisting and turning I fought with the safety belt clamped tightly across my chest. (surely it wasn't helping.) The smoke thickened blocking out the remainder of the light in the busted machine. My fingers punched pleadingly at the the clasp, but were unsuccessful... _death by safety belt... Pim would approve...Pim. Where was she or the others for that matter. _I yearned to call out for them but the smoke's grasp tightened an unpleasant reminder. I wasn't the one in charge.

The darkness was coming now creeping in at the back of my mind, as if I needed another hindrance. I could feel my life ticking away second by second I would surely die here... Not that I minded I had no need for survival it was my family's loss of life that was excruciating to think of . They had done nothing wrong. They were sweet and loving. Well at least mother and father were, but Pim has time she's young and change is just a realization away. I on the other hand had no need to go on. I'd lived a decent life. Boring and mediocre by anyones standards but not horrid. Needless to say death was not a big deal... My vision was getting fuzzy and beginning to fade out. A smash came from somewhere in the front allowing me to see light once more before I completely lost sight. Muffled voices carried on around me. Something or someone was touching me. Fighting with the buckle as I had once done, they however did it. Arms cradled around me and I was lifted from the now musky seat.

"Is He okay Dad"

"His vital signs are low. He appears to have fractured his left clavicle, and right Humerus, he's taken in entirely to much smoke, but he's alive."

The man placed me down on some warm rocky surface. Whispered something to the girl and his foot steps raced speedily away. Lighter cautious footsteps drew nearer and a cool small hand entwined with mine.

"Can you hear me?" Her breath tickled my ear and neck she must have been close.

I wanted to nod,say yes do anything to let this angel know I could hear her. But I hadn't the strength I was worn out beat down and frankly worried sick about my family.

My angel whispered once more, and ran her fingers gently across my face.

" You'll be Okay I promise."

Only life could be so cruel. You finally get use to the idea of letting go and it gives you another reason to hold on. Why does God hate me. Couldn't he just let me die quickly?

**Short I know I'm sorry! But I wanted to write something to let everyone know I was still alive. I'll ad more as soon as I can!**


	3. maybe another fourth?

_The same red ruby blood flows through me _

_But I don't feel it now._

_Cause all these doctors say that this is an _

_Emergency I'd give my eye sight for a little bit of _

_Urgency or just some signs of life from you.._

_Or just some signs of life from you.._

_Or just some signs of life from you_

Pacing footsteps echoed around me, followed by a persistent (and rather annoying) beep distributed every second or two. A sterile and slightly nauseating scent lingered beneath my nose. _Where am I ?_ I tried to skim through memories, but none were coming to me.

"How's he doing." Came a man's voice.

"I think he's okay." replied a soft and somewhat familiar whisper. "The others?"

There was a long silent pause.

"The EMT's found this on him."

_EMT? As in an Emergency Medical Technician? Am I dead? _A numb feeling began to spread though my head… The better question is…. _Who am I? _

-------

I ran my fingers slowly through the messy brown locks. He's too young to die I knawed furiously on my bottom lip. I sat in the chair next to the hospital bed, and opened the wallet my father had given me a few seconds earlier. inside was a folded piece of old parchment nothing like the lined notebook paper i carry around in my school supplies, but on it appeared to be an essay over current events. the essay was beautifully written but what i didn't understand is he recieved an A, and the paper was over the president Woodrow Wilsons first year in office. at the top of the paper the heading read

Phil Diffy

April 18 1917

I folded the paper and placed it back from it's resting place. Also inside the wallett was an old black and white photo of the boy, and what i assumed to be his family. A small girl, And a woman, and man probably in their late thirties. I walked back over to the boys bedside.

"Phil"

I whispered smiling. The name fit him somehow. my smile quickly vanished however as reality sank in. He only had so long to show some signs of recovery or the case would be deemed hopeless and the machines would be turned off no matter how much I plead or begged. The good news if there were any that came from this mess there was a reliably constant beep bringing an ounce more of hope every second or two. Is it weird that I felt for this scarred mystery boy… Probably but what did I care I had always been the odd one out. The only time I was at peace was in front of the camera during the morning announcements at school, but with summer break just around the corner I worried what my future brought. I'm a junior in high school it's time I pick a career path and follow it, the unsettling part is the career I desired in my heart of hearts was unreliable and a distant dream at best. The beeping spread up and I grabbed phil's hand.

"Phil are you there?" I whispered hopefully

His eyes flickered open but just as suddenly closed once more. "What a beautiful angel" he whispered in a raspy voice and rolled over on his side a content smile on his face.

I ran to the door of the room poking my head out. "Dad come quick!"


	4. Chapter 4

Infatuation Predication

Chapter 4 (or somewhere around there)

"Phil…Phil? Can you hear me?" the soft angelic voice was back and echoing though my mind, but it was hard to focus solely on her.

Questions echoed through my mind; who am I? Where am I? Who on earth was this Phillip character? And had he not the decency to seek refuge elsewhere?… more importantly what in God's name is that incessant beep in the background! I opened my eyes briefly, but an unpleasant white light forced them to close once again. That's it I was dead, which explained the angel and the light, but that beep! Surely God would have the decency not to emit that blasted noise! Ah of course hell is where I resided… but wait surely that harmonic voice didn't belong to a demon? I once again attempted to investigate my whereabouts, and I was successful this go around. The bright light came once again and though I itched to return to the safety of the darkness, I held strong, and it was worth it. My angel had the perfect face to match the melodious voice that danced from her lips. Blond hair fell in soft waves framing her face, and her eyes fit perfectly on her warm glowing face, but they were indescribable with every turn of the head the changed from a warm gray, to a bright blue, even once nearing seaweed green.

"What a beautiful angel." I whispered and moved my hand to hers which r ested on the railing of my bed.

"Dad he's back" she hollered over her shoulder before turning back around to face me. "How are you feeling?"

Or at least I think that's what she said. The words dripped like honey from her lip, which I obviously devoted more attention to, than what was leaving them. She really was beautiful, which was probably in the angel code right next to good hygiene and high morals.

The internal predicament I faced was one that not many in my case would have the trouble with. Most would be concerned with their whereabouts, their past, possibly their future? And I, on the other hand was more caught up in whether to continue drooling, toss my cookies, or fade back into the darkness. Maybe it was the human to angel exposure. I've heard we who come from such a dim world can only take so much pure beauty before spontaneous combustion, or at least that's Pim's theory…. Pim who the dickens was Pim?

Before I could continue my internal distress and perplexity an older gentlemen in his mid 40's showed up at my bedside, motioning for the angel to take a seat at on the chair next to me. God? Surely not he suffers to much hair loss. For the first time I took in my surroundings. There wasn't much to see. An overuse of the color white, a small vase of flowers to my left in the window, and ah! That damned machine and it's beeping. This place looked less and less like the heaven I've imagined and more like an infirmary of sorts.

"What's the last thing you remember?" the peppered hair gentleman asked before so rudely shining light into my eyes, and banding my arm with some form of demented balloon sleeve.

"Uh…" I tried very hard to recollect something, anything, but the only thing that came to mind was the bright light, and that stupid beep.

"Beeping?" I divulged pointing to the machine on my right. I wasn't happy about it, but I honestly could bring nothing else to mind. I didn't know my name, how old I was. I remembered things like how to boil an egg, how to speak, how read, write, math, but nothing personal…

"Nothing previous to the hospital?" the mans eyebrows drew closer together, showing obvious concern.

I tried to explain just that, that I knew HOW to do things, especially tangible things, but any history or personal experience behind it, and I was lost. He shook his head and wrote something on a brown clipboard. He spent the next few moments in interrogative mode asking a plethora of questions ranging from science to, math. Nodded and once again jotted down notes, whispered something in the girl's ear, and excused himself from the room.

She scooted the chair closer before crossing her arms and placing them on the bed railing. "Hi" she whispered resting her chin a top her crossed arms. "I'm Keely…Teslow "she continued adding a warm smile.

I was unsure what to say back. I knew it had to be rude to offer nothing personal in return, but I had nothing to offer, but she seemed to understand that. She removed her chin from her crossed arms and removed a small leather fold off the table next to us.

"uh, we found this on you." She paused and handed me the beat up material. "There was a wreck…I know this is confusing, it is for me too., I don't know what else to…um… say." Her voice was quite, and sincere which was comforting in some small way.

"Thank you." I mumbled politely and took the leather fold quizzically in my hand. Turning it over, and taking a deep breath before opening it up. The only clue I had to my identity I unfolded an essay reading the name at the top… _phil_. Well It sounded right. I put the parchment back up, noticing the corner of a picture in one of the flaps, but I couldn't quite muster up the courage to look at it yet. as terrifying as the future may look for me, I now felt more fear for the past. I put the wallet on table, took a deep breath and reached with my right hand to hers. I pressed my lips against the soft skin of the back of her hand." Miss Teslow, it is a pleasure to meet you…I'm Phil Diffy, or at least I'm almost certain that I am…"


	5. Chapter 5

INFATUATION PREDICATION  
Chapter… (For the sake of lessened perplexity lets call it) 5

(But really I'm just trying to break my no update habit.. It's like a paragraph)

I can't pretend that I wasn't at all freaked out by this Phil Diffy's behavior. It was unnatural this odd endearing terminology, complete loss of identity, outdated current event paper, AND really just the general way he presented himself. (Kissing my hand? For the love of Christmas cookies who does that these days?), I constantly found myself pinching a flap of skin, to make sure I hadn't stumbled down some rabbit hole, into a twisted-modern-day-Jane-Austen-Wannabe Novel

It was bazaar to say the least. Still… in the same aspect it was definitely intriguing (and flattering!) I'd like to say that the mistaken identity as an angel wasn't going to my head, but in actuality I've already reserved a pair of sparkling wings on Craig's list.  
Shortly after the explanation of his whereabouts, and the introduction he again faded back out. After about an hour I began to notice an unusual stench lingering in the poorly lit, under decorated room. Finally it occurred to me that I hadn't left the hospital in the past three days., My usual floral scent had turned a bit sour, and though the thought of seeing what I've turned into scared the living daylight out of me: I stumbled into the cramped bathroom. I gave myself a dissatisfied once over in the mirror above the sink. My clothes were wrinkled beyond recognition, my make-up had long sense worn off, and my hair was holding enough grease to fry turkeys for all of China…and Japan. _I'd sell my future first born for a shower, and change in wardrobe._ Well _probably not, but i wouldn't trust myself in the situation._ I toyed with the idea of leaving, but the thought that he would wake up alone left me with a guilty pain in the pit of my stomach. He didn't know anyone else, and social services hadn't had any luck tracking down relatives. I glanced back up to the mirror... somehow my pejorative hygienic state seemed crueler than leaving him solo for a few hours. I scribbled down an explanation setting it in the palm of his hand, and fled the scene in search of a long overdue bar of soap.


End file.
